


Let the Ocean Take Me

by starlight_starbright



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Brainwashing, Dirty Talk, Hurt!Steve, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Post CA:TWS, Recovery, Top!Bucky, bottom!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3066344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_starbright/pseuds/starlight_starbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has been recovering for months but seems to be more closed off than ever. Steve gets back from a mission and everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Ocean Take Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Amity Affliction. 
> 
> Well don't lean on me 'cause I am falling, please don't fall with me.  
> I really need you here, yeah I need you so don't leave.  
> And don't count on me 'cause I am drowning, please don't drown with me.  
> Just hold me in your heart, let the ocean take me.

Blue eyes. For as long as he can remember, blue has been the colour of hope and safety and comfort. Blue is excitement and mischief and energy. It means love and warmth and protection. Those eyes had always been expressive. They showed anger and happiness and worry. They showed sadness and regret and overwhelming, all-consuming pain.

They were the last thing Steve thought of when he went under and the first thing he remembered when he woke up. He goes through life in a daze because of those eyes—always getting the job done, but never having his head completely in it. The blue Steve could never quite recreate with paints. They haunt his nightmares. He can't escape them. 

He’s not sure he wants to.

He loves those eyes. The steel blue and long black lashes. The innocence mixed with the pain. The love that was always found in the depths if not on the surface. He craves the look in those eyes when desire creeps in. He needs those eyes. Needs the person he loves to come back to him.

Because the body that goes with those eyes has changed.

Not on purpose. None of this is his fault. Steve should have reached farther, should have looked harder. Steve could have done so much to avoid this, but it’s done now and Steve will never forgive himself. However, there is still something that can be done for the owner of those pale blue eyes. Steve can help him. Can walk him through recovery.

And so he does. He’s by Bucky’s side every step of the way even though Bucky is still sometimes unsure of who Steve is and what they used to be together. Steve doesn’t push, doesn’t demand, doesn’t even speak of it. He asks Bucky every morning how he;’ feeling and he always get the same answer—silence.  
But today is different. Today Bucky had taken the coffee Steve had offered him and sat at their table in their apartment on their floor of the Avengers tower. He had asked about the mission Steve had just gotten back from. They had had a real conversation for the first time since the war. 

Today Bucky has asked to spar with Steve. To train with him. He’s been more vocal about what he wants and Steve almost always gives it to him. He needs to understand that desire isn’t something to be punished for. That there is a different way of doing things. That HYDRA can't touch him here. That Steve can keep him safe.

So Steve heads down to the training room. He’s early, he knows, but he needs to blow off some steam. He’s still recovering from the mission he and Natasha just got back from last night, and he needs to loosen up some. He grabs a punching back and strings it up. Not bothering to tape his hands, he starts throwing punches at it. The sound of skin on canvas echoes around the room as Steve works his aching muscles.

 

He can remember when he was small and the bag would have weighed more than him. He can remember Bucky teaching him to defend himself because he was already getting into fights anyway. May as well know how to protect yourself, he’d said. 

He can remember when Bucky’d gone off to fight in the war and their goodbye—a deep, earth-shattering kiss away from the public eye. Promises of return.  
He can remember the all-encompassing rage finding Bucky in Zola’s lab. He had been different after that, but still Bucky. Always his Bucky. 

He can remember the first night they made love after the serum—the night they had returned to base. Bucky had been quiet then, nothing like the talker he usually was, but his presence still had the same effect on Steve. It was like they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. He can remember being taken by Bucky, being loved, being needed. He can remember Bucky’s words after—I love you, Steve. I have always loved you and I will always love you. Don’t ever forget that.

They had exchanged dog tags that night. Everyone knew who they were, so it didn’t matter, but it was like having a piece of the other next to their hearts at all times. They had fought together, loved together, jumped together. 

They should have fallen together.

Steve has stopped moving. His hands are trembling and he’s on his knees. There’s blood all over the bag, which is also on the floor. There’s someone calling his name, but it’s like trying to hear through water. He feels like he can't breathe. There’s a part of him that’s missing and it’s killing him. He can’t move, can't see, can't hear. He feels something cold on his shoulder, but can't tell what it is. Someone is still talking to him, but he can't quite make it out. Steel blue eyes are the last thing he sees before the dark water consumes him.

-

“Steve?” 

Steve’s head hurts. His mouth is dry and every inch of his body hurts. He doesn’t want to open his eyes like the voice is asking him to. He wants to stay in his dream world with Bucky. It was perfect—nothing hurt. But he’s Captain America. He can't afford to be down for more than a day. He opens his eyes to se that he’s in his bed—and someone’s there with him.

“Hiya, Stevie.” Steel blue eyes. Bucky. He must be dreaming. “Nope,” Bucky says as if he’s reading his mind. “Can’t get rid of me so easily, punk.” Steve can't breathe. He forgets how to make his lungs contract and expand. A warm hand stroked Steve’s jaw. “Don’t do that to me, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs. “You just woke up, you can't pass out on me again.” Steve fights to control himself. 

“B-bucky?” Bucky smiles—the same smile that Steve sees every time he closes his eyes.

“Yeah, Steve. It’s me. I'm back. For real this time.” Steve jolts up, wires pulling at his skin and needles ripping from his arms, and throws his arms around the man at his bedside. Bucky laughs—actually laughs—and then a warm arm encircles him. After a few seconds, the metal arm joins the flesh arm to make a protective cage around Steve’s body. Steve can’t believe this. He has Bucky back. Bucky is touching him and Steve is crying and everything is going to hell while simultaneously being fused back together. “You’re okay, baby. I'm right here.” Bucky rubs sure hands over Steve’s bare back and Steve takes comfort in the simple touch.

“You remember?” Steve asks, almost scared to hear the answer. Bucky kisses the top of Steve’s head.

“Yeah, Stevie. I remember.” Steve lets out a sound halfway between relief and ecstatic joy and kisses the man holding him. At the first brush of skin, the first hint of pressure and heat, Steve pulls away.

“Fuck—Bucky—I'm so sorry.” Steve doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to scare Bucky off. But Bucky rolls his eyes and climbs onto the bed—Steve’s bed—and picks IV’s out of Steve’s arms carefully. Steve and the brunette are the same height now, but Bucky still tries to tuck Steve into his side. Steve tries to make himself small again so that he can fit where he wants most to be.

“You can touch me as much as you like. I want you to want to touch me. I want to touch you . . .” He accentuates his words by running a gentle hand down Steve’s bruised and broken body. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” Steve whimpers at the pain in his body and the pleasure of Bucky’s hands on him after so long.

“What do you remember?” Steve asks. Bucky drops kisses on the nape of Steve’s neck and shivers run up and down his spine.

“Everything, sweetheart. I remember everything. Before. The war. After. The tests. The serums. The pain. Everyone I hurt, everyone I killed. But . . . I also remember happiness and warmth and love. We used to take all the couch cushions and blankets into the living room and bundle up when it was cold. I would make hot chocolate. You would kiss me. I would touch you. We loved each other.” Steve squeezes Bucky tightly and accepts what’s just been said. They can talk about guilt and regret at another time. But he has those eyes back—those steel blue eyes full of life and happiness.

“I love you so fucking much, Buck.” Steve presses bruising kisses to Bucky’s lips. The brunette opens up willingly, pulling Steve on top of him to straddle his hips.

“You want me, Stevie?” Bucky asks huskily. Steve moans, rubbing his half-hard cock against the seam of Bucky’s uniform. “Steve, I need you to say yes. I need you to tell me you want me and you love me.” Steve pins Bucky down and nips up his neck. How could Bucky ever think Steve wouldn’t want him? 

“James Buchannan Barnes. I love you as much today as I did yesterday as last year as during the war and as we were kids. Nothing anyone says or does—especially you—can change that.” Steve sucks a mark into the tan expanse of Bucky’s collarbone. “I haven’t been with anyone other than you. I've never wanted to. It’s always been you, Bucky. It’ll always be you.” Bucky groans and ruts his hips up into Steve’s and flips them over.

“No one else, Stevie?” Steve shook his head, eyes wide. “Peggy?” Steve cracked a laugh.

“She knew how I felt about you the moment she saw us together at that bar.” Bucky growled and kissed Steve possessively.

“Good.” Bucky pulls at Steve’s pants. “Can I take these off?”

“Oh, god. Please.” Bucky’s metal arm whirrs and clicks as the fingers work his pants open. Steve just lays back and tries to control his body. He feels almost light-headed with the sensation of Bucky’s hands pulling his clothes off.

“You with me, darlin’?” the brunette asks. Steve nods. “So good for me, baby. So good.” Bucky’s flesh hand wraps around Steve’s cock and tugs. Steve comes hard with a loud cry. He can hear it splash to the floor, can feel it hitting his chest and his chin.

“Sorry—” Steve gasps, but Bucky leans down to lick Steve clean.

“Wanna make you feel good, Stevie.” Bucky lips up Steve’s chin and shoves his tongue into Steve’s mouth. “God, you taste good.” Steve groans and thrusts up to grind against Bucky’s thigh. “You’re still hard, baby. What do you want? How can I make you feel good?” Steve flips them over and rips Bucky’s uniform off. He wants skin-to-skin contact and he wants it now.

“Fuck me,” Steve growls. “Fuck me because I love you and it’s been too long. Fuck me because you love me. Fuck me because neither of us has to hold back.” His voice is breathy. “Bucky—I want you inside of me. I want to feel your come dripping down my legs and I want to see your face when you come apart.” Bucky groans and goes to work his fingers into Steve’s entrance, but Steve stops him.

“Steve, I gotta prep you . . .” Steve flips them over so that he can sink down on Bucky’s cock. “Steve!” Bucky’s chest is heaving and his eyes are blown wide open.

“Don’t wanna wait, Bucky. Please.” Bucky bites his lip for a minute before visibly giving in. Steve allows himself to be rolled over and pressed down into the mattress.

“You want me to fuck you, kitten?” Bucky croons. He’s rocking his hips slowly in and out of Steve. “You sure you want me to fuck you?” Steve tries to move, but Bucky uses the metal arm to hold him in place.

“I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me right now—” He doesn’t get the chance to finish because Bucky pulls back and slams into him. Steve’s head cracks against the headboard and he lets out a scream—an honest to god scream. It spurs Bucky on. Steve can feel the bruises being dug into his sin where the brunette’s fingers are on his hips. He likes it. “Talk to me,” Steve whispers. “I like it when you talk.” Bucky smiles and kisses Steve hard.

“I love you so fucking much, Steve. You’re so beautiful all splayed out like this.” He fucks Steve nice and slow now, hitting Steve’s prostate with each thrust. “I’m not gonna last, baby. You feel too good all hot and tight around me. You make the prettiest noises, kitten. I wonder what you’ll sound like when I come inside you.” Steve’s back arches and he takes Bucky’s metal hand and places it over his throat. Bucky looks unsure. “Stevie . . .”

“I want it, Bucky. I want you to fuck me like this. I want to feel helpless under you. I want you to take control. I trust you. Every part of you.” Bucky snaps his hips and the metal fingers clutch at Steve’s throat. It feels so good—better than during the war. Steve didn’t know that was possible. Didn’t know it was possible to feel this way.

“’M gonna come, Buck. Fuck me harder. Give me everything.” Bucky looses it, fucking into Steve so hard that the bed creaks and cracks. Neither of them notice. Bucky’s hand clicks as his fingers clench harder.

“Want you to come for me, baby. Want you to come so hard you can't do anything but scream. Want you to scream my name. Wake up the whole tower, baby. Come for me. Come for me.” Steve screams, like Bucky’d told him to. Bucky continues to fuck him, continues to talk, continues to choke him. His orgasm lasts forever and as soon as Steve is finished, Bucky comes. It set’s Steve off again and he comes almost painfully for a third time.

When they’ve calmed down, Bucky removes his hand from Steve’s throat. Steve whimpers at the loss, but can't move. Bucky stands and gets a towel to clean them up. He laughs when the bed creaks and topples.

“Think we broke the bed, Stevie.” Steve tries to laugh, but he can’t. He can't speak. “Steve?” Steve sits up and holds a hand out to him. It’ll only take a few minutes for him to heal. “Oh god, Steve. I hurt you.” Steve tries to stand, but thinks better of it when his head spins and he hits the pillows hard. “Okay Stevie. Just take it easy. You’re okay.” Bucky takes him into his arms carefully, like he’s afraid to touch him. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.” Steve shakes his head rapidly. No don’t be sorry I wanted it I feel amazing don’t you fucking dare apologise. He coughs and opens his mouth to speak. Bucky kisses him softly.

“’S okay, Buck.” Bucky hushes him and leads him into the other room.

“Since your bed is now broken, we can sleep in mine. It’s okay. You need to sleep.” Steve nuzzles into Bucky’s neck and breathes in.

“I love you, Buck.” He can feel Bucky smile.

“I love you, too, Steve. Go to sleep.” It doesn’t come right away—it feels too good being back in Bucky’s arms. Eventually, Bucky gets up to go to the bathroom and comes back with a small jar.

“What’s that?” Bucky sets it on the nightstand and pulls the covers off of Steve’s body.

“It’ll help with your bruises.” Steve looks at Bucky, confused.

“Bruises?” Bucky looks concerned.

“Steve, have you looked in a mirror since you got home?” Steve thinks back to the mission, to coming home . . .

“No. I guess not.” Bucky dips two fingers in the salve and rubs it over a bruise on Steve’s chest. The blonde practically moans with relief when the numbing agent kicks in. It smells like mint and clean soap and Bucky is so tender and gentle that Steve wants to cry. A whimper escapes his lips and Bucky removes his hand from Steve’s body. “No, don’t,” Steve begs. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” Bucky whispers. Steve places Bucky’s hands on his body and closes his eyes, revelling in the warmth and peace of having his hands on Bucky’s.

“You won't.” Bucky finishes covering Steve’s bruises with the mint salve and then tucks himself tightly around Steve’s body. 

“I love you,” Bucky says, his voice strong and firm in the darkness.

“I love you, too.” Bucky kisses the nape of this neck, and for the first time in a long time, Steve sleeps with no nightmares.


End file.
